


To Love Forever

by brianna441



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 04:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianna441/pseuds/brianna441
Summary: The pursuit of a suspect changes Hutch's perspective of the job, leading to big changes in both their lives.





	To Love Forever

“To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live forever.”  
― Henry Drummond  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nicholas Castellanos was a powerful businessman, owner of a major importing empire with locations in a dozen cities and five different countries.

Nicholas Castellanos was also the head of a major drug cartel, distributing his product via his legitimate business.

Everybody knew that Castellanos was a drug dealer but nobody could prove it. The state's investigative agency, the CBI had tried. So did the Justice Department. Even the CIA investigated the company's international offices. They all came up empty.

But now Bay City's finest had taken on the case.

For the past three months they tracked down every lead, documented every connection and slowly built a map of Castellanos' organization. The evidence they gathered along the way fell short of getting them Castellanos but it did give them enough to bring some major charges against one Charles 'Charlie' Saunders.

Saunders was no man in a three-piece suit that fit nicely into Castellanos' legitimate business. No, Saunders was a life-long criminal, brilliant at what he did. He was also the number two man in Castellanos' drug business.

The detectives were sure that if they could bring Saunders in, they could get him to deal up for Castellanos. At least that was the plan they were working with.

Now, all they had to do was find him.

~*~*~*~*~

They'd been trailing after Saunders all day, hitting up snitches, following up leads, all in an effort to finally grab the man.

It was now close to eight in the evening, more than twelve hours into a day that began at seven that morning. They were cruising the streets in the Torino, hoping to catch a break. Hutch was frustrated and grumpy and Starsky was determined to brighten his mood, even if he had to do it by being annoying.

"C'mon, Hutch! Are we gonna do this all night?" he whined, trying to torment his partner.

"Not all night," Hutch growled. "but we've got to keep looking. He's out here somewhere, Starsk. I just know it."

"But I'm hungry." Starsky whined again, knowing it was sending his partner up a wall. "Can't we stop an' get somethin' to eat?"

"No, we can't stop!" Hutch shouted. "We'll miss him! Then we'll have wasted another whole day!"

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Starsky's whining was like fingers on a chalkboard tonight and it was really getting to him. And he had the feeling that was his partner's goal.

Trying for a calmer, more reasonable tone, Hutch offered a deal. "Look…let's keep looking for another hour. If we don't find him by then, we'll head home, order pizza and call it a night. OK?"

"So…" Starsky said thoughtfully. "Another hour, then we head home and order my favorite pizza?"

"Yes." Hutch agreed, noting but ignoring the added clarification.

"And then have wild and crazy sex?"

Hutch sighed and shook his head. Leave it to his partner to always push, always go a step further, just to make him happy.

"OK, fine." He agreed, appearing to give in reluctantly. "Another hour then we head home, get your favorite pizza and have wild and crazy sex."

"Alright!" Starsky laughed triumphantly. After all these years, he knew just how to annoy Hutch enough to get exactly what he wanted. Reaching over, he pinched his lover's cheek. "You are so easy when you're grumpy."

Hutch swatted the hand away. "Yeah, well, don't be surprised if I fall asleep on you." Hutch grumbled, turning towards his window.

"Oh, I'll keep your attention. Don't worry." Starsky reached over to pinch the cheek again but was stopped the famous 'Hutch glare' accompanied by the famous 'Hutch finger'.

Starsky laughed as the Torino continued to roll down the street.

It was ten minutes later when they hit pay dirt.

"There!" Hutch shouted, pointing out the windshield. "Half a block up, on the right, walking towards that green Buick!"

"We got 'im!" Starsky shouted as he simultaneously hit the gas and grabbed the radio mike. "Zebra Three to Central. We are in pursuit of…"

"Give me that!" Hutch grabbed the mike. "You just concentrate on driving and not getting us killed! Central," he continued into the mike, "Zebra Three is in pursuit of suspect Charles Saunders. Traveling north on Crenshaw from West Pico in a green Buick Skylark, license…to follow."

He grabbed at the roof and passenger door, trying to steady himself in the fast moving, swerving car. "Watch where you're going, will ya!"

"I'm watchin'." Starsky shouted back, "I'm watchin' him pull into that lot up on the left!"

Hutch grabbed the mike again. "Zebra Three to Central. Suspect has pulled into a warehouse complex at…where are we?" He looked around as Starsky made a sharp left turn into the warehouse lot. "The 1200 block of Crenshaw."

"He's running!" Starsky shouted as he slammed on the brakes, bringing the Torino to a screeching halt.

"Zebra Three requesting backup!" Hutch shouted into the mike before tossing it on the seat and jumping out of the car, following his partner to the entrance of the warehouse.

At the double-wide entrance, Hutch plastered himself against the wall on the right, gun drawn and held in both hands in front of him. He looked over at his partner, who was holding a similar position on the left side of the doorway.

A calming breath then a slight nod had both men turning into the warehouse, Hutch on the right, aiming high, Starsky on the left, aiming low.

Rows and rows of crates stacked up to the twenty-foot ceiling formed multiple alleys of darkness. A quick scan and a shared look had both men moving off in their appointed direction, hunting for Saunders.

Saunders was known to be a man without a conscious, killing without discretion. Hutch moved slowly down the aisle, alert to any sound, any change around him.

Shots! From the other side of the warehouse. Hutch stopped, waiting. Then he heard the distinct sound of Starsky's Beretta returning fire.

More shots from the unknown weapon. Hutch waited…and waited. But there was no return fire.

Where was Starsky?

Hutch turned down the next aisle, still moving cautiously but as quickly as possible towards the area of the fired shots. Suddenly, Saunders was a secondary concern. He had to find his partner. He had to find Starsky!

He moved past a cross aisle, still heading towards the left. Quietly, cautiously…then he stopped. There. Something. A sound, a change in the air current.

He paused, took a breath then, in one fluid motion, Hutch turned and fired!

~*~*~*~*~

To Hutch, it seemed like days but it had only been a few hours. Saunders was in lockup. His attorney had been called. Now Hutch was struggling to finish his report.

He stared at the form in the typewriter. He was tired beyond anything he'd ever felt before. He didn't know how to explain it but he felt like he was spread too thin. Maybe, he thought, maybe it was time.

Across the table, Starsky pulled his report from the typewriter in front of him and signed it with a flourish. Then, pushing the typewriter over to the desk next to him, he sat, folded his arms on his desk and looked over at his partner to find Hutch just staring at the form in front of him.

"Hey."

Hutch looked up, catching Starsky's eyes. No other words were necessary. He could read his partner's question in those blue eyes. _"What's wrong?"_

A slight shake of his head and he looked away. He didn't want to talk about it. Not here. Not now. He tried to focus on the completed report but he could feel Starsky's eyes, still staring at him, still poking at him, still wanting to know.

"Hey!" Starsky said again, quietly.

Hutch looked up again to meet those eyes, again reading the question. _"What's wrong? I can help. You know I'm not lettin' it go. Tell me."_

Hutch glanced around the room, seeing that no one was paying attention to them. He looked down at his hands then back to his partner.

"I…I don't think I can do this anymore, Starsk."

He saw the look in his partner's eyes change, becoming softer in understanding. Starsky knew exactly what he was talking about. He watched as Starsky stood, reaching over to the report still in his typewriter.

"Are you done with this?"

When Hutch nodded, Starsky pulled the paper out, placed it on the desk and signed Hutch's name to it. He then place it in a folder, along with his own report and walked into the Captain's office, dropping the folder on the desk.

Coming back to his partner, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Come on."

Hutch stood, grabbed his jacket and led his partner out the door. He knew they were going to go home, to one of their apartments, and talk. He knew that Starsky wouldn't be satisfied until he got Hutch to tell him everything and they made a decision, together. Hutch wasn't looking forward to the conversation but he knew. It was time.

~*~*~*~*~

No words were necessary as they climbed into the Torino and pulled out, heading, Hutch could see, to Starsky's place. Hutch spent the time thinking, trying to put his need into words that his partner, his lover, would understand.

Starsky loved being a cop. He lived to be a cop. How could Hutch ask him to leave it all behind. Because he knew, with every fiber of his being, that if Hutch left the force, Starsky would be right there with him.

His partner had fought so hard, after the assassination attempt. Struggled through all the pain, pushed past the failures, built on the successes until, finally, he regained all he'd lost. He applied for and received reinstatement and he was back on the street, in top form.

And now Hutch was going to ask him to give it all up.

The car pulled up in front of Starsky's apartment and stopped.

"Let's go." Starsky got out of the car and led the way up the steps to his front door. Hutch climb out of the Torino and followed. Starsky unlocked the door and moved inside, heading directly to the kitchen. He picked up the phone and dialed then, with the handset wedged between his head and shoulder, moved to the fridge.

Ordering his pizza, he grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge, closed the door and moved towards the phone on the wall. Hanging up, he opened the beers then placed them on the table. He looked up at Hutch, tilting his head to indicate the chair across the table. He waited until Hutch sat down then he sat, pushing a bottle of beer over to his partner.

Pausing to study the sullen face across from him, Starsky reached out and placed his hand on Hutch's arm.

"Talk to me."

Hutch was silent for a moment then let out a sigh. He had to do it and he had to do it now.

"I...I'm sorry, babe. So sorry. But…I…"

"Hey. Look at me." Starsky said as he gently squeezed his partner's arm. When Hutch finally meet his partner's eyes, Starsky smiled. "There's nothin' to be sorry about. Just tell me what's goin' on in that crazy head of yours. Whatever it is, we'll work it out. I promise."

Hutch nodded then looked directly at his partner. "I can't do this anymore, Starsk. The job. I…I just can't."

Starsky stared at him for a moment, searching his face. "This has been buildin' for a while, hasn’t it?" When Hutch nodded, Starsky asked "What was it about today?"

"I heard the shots fired. I knew it wasn't your gun so it had to be Saunders. My breath caught in my chest. I…I couldn't breathe. Then I heard your return fire and…and I could breathe again. But then I heard Saunders firing again and…and you didn't respond. I…I thought he shot you, that he killed you. Starsk, I was so scared!"

"But I'm OK." Starsky smiled. "We caught Saunders between us, you winged him, I cuffed him and we brought him in. Everything ended up just fine."

"Yeah. This time." Hutch shook his head. "But what about next time, huh? What happens if one of us is just a half second too slow, a half second too late! What happens then?"

Starsky didn't say anything, giving Hutch a moment to compose himself.

"I've loved being a cop. And I've been a damned good one. But it's changed, it's all changed. It's not about good guys and bad guys and helping people anymore, Starsk. Now it seems to be all about lawyers and deals and to hell with the victims. We bust our asses to bring them in and they just let them go! " Hutch shook his head again. "I've tried to let it go, to work through it 'cus I knew how much you loved the job but, I'm sorry, Starsk. I just can't anymore."

"There's nothin' to be sorry about, babe. If you're done with the job, then we're done."

"But that's not fair, not to you. You love being a cop. That's all you've ever wanted to do. It's important to you. How can I ask you to leave?"

"What makes you think this job is more important to me than you? Huh? And what makes you think I'm not as tired with it as you are?"

"But, after the shooting, you fought so hard to get back."

Starsky chuckled as he took both of Hutch's hands in his. "Sometimes you are such a moron." He looked hard at his partner, making sure he had his undivided attention. "Yes, I worked hard to get back. Harder than I've ever work at anything in my life. But it had nothin' to do with my love for the job. It was all about showin' Gunther, and anyone else who was watchin', that Gunther didn't win. He may have knocked us down but he didn't take anything, not one damn thing away from us. I had to prove that I was, we were, stronger than anything he could throw at us."

Starsky waited for a moment, watching Hutch, watching his words sink in.

"I've been feeling the same way as you have for a while. Maybe even before Lionel. But I figured, when the time really came, one of us would say somethin'. I guess you just got there first."

"You really mean it, babe? You're ready to retire?"

Starsky stood, pulling Hutch to his feet. "I'm ready to do whatever you want to do. We can be professional dog walkers, for all I care. Just as long as we do it together" He placed his hands on Hutch's face, pulling him close, touching foreheads. "You are the most important thing in my life. Do you understand that? Nothing, nothing is more important to me than you." He pulled Hutch into his arms, holding him tight, Hutch's head resting on his shoulder. "I love you, mushbrain! Don't you know that by now?"

Hutch's arms went around his partner, holding him tight. He loved this man more than life itself. Yeah, he knew.

"I know you do." Hutch stepped back, Starsky's arms still holding him. "And you know how much I love you."

Starsky covered Hutch's lips with his own in a searing kiss. He smiled as they broke apart, both men out of breath. "Yeah, I know."

Eyes still taking in his partner's smiling face, he let his left hand slide down his lover's body, skimming over the front of his jeans, over the hardness held within.

"Now look at that." Starsky said with a teasing smile. "You've got yourself all tense."

"Yeah," Hutch returned the smile. "All tense. And what are you gonna do about that?"

"I'll have to fix it, won't I." He took Hutch's hand, leading him towards the bedroom. "Maybe a massage…or somethin'."

"Yeah, " Hutch laughed. "Or something."

~*~*~*~*~

As the midnight silence settled over the world outside, the two men basked in the warmth and peace of their lovemaking. Starsky lay with his arms around his lover, Hutch's head resting on the dark curls of his partner's chest.  
Edging his fingers into the golden silk of Hutch's hair, Starsky asked. "So, any ideas 'bout what you want to do when you're not a cop anymore?"

"Oh, I…I don't know. I haven't really thought about it." Hutch stammered.

Starsky heard the uncertainty in Hutch's voice and chuckled. "You forget that I know you, babe. Better than you even know yourself. You've thought about it. You've even decided. But you don't want to tell me 'cus you think it's stupid or crazy or some shit like that."

He pulled on a few of the blond strands wrapped around his fingers. "But you're gonna tell me. Sooner or later, you're gonna tell me. So you might as well do it now."

He waited, giving his partner time to decide. Hutch, for all his inner strength, carried an overabundance of self-doubt. But Hutch also trusted him, to listen, to understand and to tell him the truth. He just had to give Hutch time. So he waited.

After a moment, Hutch sighed, his decision made. "Well," he said slowly, "I was thinking that I'd like to try writing."

"Writing what? Like textbooks or procedure manuals or somethin'?"

"Novels. Crime novels."

"Ya mean like based on some of our cases?"

Hutch raised his head, meeting his lover's eyes. "Yeah. Just like that." He looked at Starsky expectantly. "What do you think?"

"I think it’s a great idea. You'll be a great writer. And I could help you, ya know, with the details and all."

"Yeah. We could do that." Hutch returned his head to his partner's chest. "I…I don't know if I'll be any good at it but, well, I'd just like to give it a try. But what about you. What do you want to do?"

"I already told ya. Professional Dog Walker, that's me!"

They both chuckled as Hutch slapped his partner's chest. "Can you be serious for a moment, please?"

"OK, ok." Starsky let out a sigh. "Well, I haven't really thought a lot about it but I think I'd like to work on my photography. I could start out by hiring myself out for parties and events, ya know, wedding and things. That'll get my name out there, then, when I've built up a portfolio, I could maybe get a showing or somethin'."

"I think that sounds great." Hutch agreed. "You know I love the photos you take."

"Yeah, but you're prejudiced." Starsky chuckled.

Hutch snuggled back down into his previous position. "But there's something I want to do first, even before we hand in our resignations."

"Yeah? What's that."

"I want us to buy a house. A house on the beach. Just you and me."

Starsky was quiet for a moment, visualizing him and Hutch sharing a home. "Yeah. I like that idea. You think we could do it?"

"Well, if we pool both our savings, we should be able to cover a down payment. And a mortgage payment has got to be cheaper than the rent on two places. So, yeah…I think we can do it."

"Great." Starsky smiled, snuggling down with his partner in his arms. "So, we find a house on the beach, then retire. I become a photographer and you become a famous novelist. And we spend the next sixty or seventy years together. Sounds like a plan."

"Yeah, a plan."

With that, both men drifted off to sleep, secure in the plan for their future.

~*~*~*~*~

The next month was a whirlwind of activity for both men. The first item tackled were their finances, determining how much savings they had, what bills could they pay off, all in an effort to determine how much of a mortgage they could afford. Once that was worked out, they set about applying for the mortgage. They wanted to have the pre-approved amount in hand when they found the place they wanted. They also met with a mutual friend, Karen Murphy, who was a real estate agent. They told her what they were looking for and their price range and she set off on their quest.

On the work-front, they spent their time cleaning up back cases, finalizing reports and other paperwork. They didn’t want to leave any of their cases undone. Hutch also began quietly making copies of some of their case file. If he was going to write crime novels based on their cases, these file would prove invaluable.

It was the end of the third week in the month when Starsky strolled into the squad room and saw his partner hang up the phone. Hutch stood, pulled his jacket from the back of his chair and, before Starsky had a chance to sit down, grabbed his partner by the arm and started moving towards the door.

“Hey,” Starsky asked, surprised. “Where we goin’?”

“We have to go meet Freddie.” Hutch spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “He may have something for us.”

As Hutch propelled him into the hallway, Starsky pulled out of his grasp. “But we’re not scheduled to meet with Freddie for…” He looked at his watch. “…another two hours!”

“I know.” Hutch replied as they continued down the hall. “So we can use this time to check out the house Karen just call about.” He held up a piece of paper which Starsky promptly grabbed.

“A house? She found us a house?” He scanned the note, checking out the address.

“And she says it’s just what we’re looking for. She thinks it’s perfect.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Starsky asked as he pushed through the door.

~*~*~*~*~

An hour later found Hutch standing on the beach, watching the ocean waves wash up against the sand.

Walking down from the house, Starsky noticed two things about his partner. One, he wasn’t looking at the house and, two, he didn’t look happy.

He walked up to stand beside his partner, looking out to the ocean. “The view is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Hutch agreed. He turned to face his partner. “What do you think about the house?”

“I think it’s perfect! The master bedroom is a dream, with that huge bathroom. The other two bedrooms, we can turn one into an office for you and the other into a darkroom for me. And I love the open floorplan of the living area, with the kitchen and the deck in the back. Add in that laundry room and it’s got everything we could possible want.” Starsky paused a moment, watching his lover’s face. “Don’t you think it’s perfect?”

“Yeah, perfect.” Hutch still had that frown on his face. “Too perfect. Come on.” He walked past Starsky and led him back up to the house.

~*~*~*~*~

They found Karen sitting in the kitchen area, waiting for them.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked. “Perfect, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” Hutch agreed. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What do you mean?” Karen asked, a bit stunned by the question. Seeing the look on Hutch’s face, she knew there was a problem and she had to get to the bottom of it.

“Ken, sit down.” She guided him to a chair, gesturing for Starsky to do the same. “Dave.” As they both sat, Karen looked at them, then concentrated on Hutch. “There’s nothing wrong with the house. So, tell me why you think there is.”

Hutch took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself and push the uncertainties aside. “This house has everything we asked for, Karen. Everything we could possible want. And it’s in our price range.” He looked from Karen to Starsky and back again, making sure he had both their attentions before he continued. “In today’s market, they could get twice what their asking for this place. So it makes me wonder. What’s wrong with the place that they’re willing to sell it so cheap.”

Karen smiled. “I see your concern, Ken. But I can assure you. I have all the inspection reports to back up that there is nothing wrong with this property.” She held up her hand to stop Hutch’s reply. “Let me share something with both of you. The prior owners were Stu Manning, a retired San Francisco police officer, and his wife. They we’re both killed about a month ago in a car accident. Their three children all live back east. They all have successful careers. None of them want the house and none of them care about the money. All they’re interested in is selling the place and moving on.”

“Do you have all the inspection reports that we can see?” Starsky asked, giving Hutch time to digest the information.

“Absolutely.” Karen looked at both men. “Guys, I can give you the reports and you can read them yourselves. But, if you want this house, you have to tell me now. As Ken pointed out, this place is underpriced. It isn’t going to stay on the market for long. I’d hate to have you lose it because you waited.”

Starsky looked over at Hutch. Meeting his eyes, they shared a silent conversation. They both loved the house. They both wanted it. And they trusted Karen.

“OK,” Hutch said. “Give us the reports then give them a bid. You know our range. And,” he reached out and placed his hand on Karen’s arm. “We both trust you.”

~*~*~*~*~

It was a week later, at the end of a long workday, as the boys sat at their desk, cleaning up files, when the phone rang.

Hutch picked up the handset and pushed the button. "Hutchinson."

"Ken, it's Karen. If David's there, have him pick up."

Catching his partner's eye, Hutch pointed to the phone. "Line two."

The partner's eyes met across the desk as Starsky picked up the phone. "OK, Karen, we're both here."

"Good. I wanted to make sure I had both of you so I could tell you the news. " She paused a moment, letting the anticipation build. "The Manning's have accepted your offer. The beach house is yours!"

Hutch sat, stunned while Starsky let out a "Woo hoo!", momentarily forgetting where he was. Looking around at the  
startled faces of his fellow officers, he nodded, embarrassed, and turned his attention back to his partner and the call.

"How much, Karen?" Hutch asked. "What was the offer?"

"That's the best part. They accepted your minimum bid."

"The minimum? Why?"

"Well, I made the bid and they seemed reluctant until I happened to mention that the buyers were two retiring police officers who were trying to save on expenses."

"I…I don't know…" Hutch stammered before Starsky broke in. "Karen, you are an angel! The absolute best. We owe you, big time."

"Well, just invite me to your place for a barbeque on the beach and I'll be happy." She laughed. "But, back to business. The Manning brother who's a lawyer, Vincent, wants to make settlement at the end of this month. Is that's agreeable to you guys?"

Hutch looked over at his partner, who shrugged. "Yeah, whatever he wants. Can you take care of all that?"

"Sure. I'll handle all of the details and just let you know where to show up and when. How's that?"

"Starsky's right. You are an angel." They said their final good-byes and both men hung up the phone.

"Interrogation Room 4." Hutch said, as he stood. Starsky nodded and followed him out of the squad room and down the hall.

Hutch opened the door to Interrogation Room #4 and checked inside to be sure it was empty. The only interrogation room without a two-way mirror or video cameras, it had become a refuse for fellow officers that just needed a break, a quiet place to relax for a few moments.

Seeing that the room was empty, he held the door opened until Starsky entered then closed and locked it behind him. Facing his partner he slowly smile then let out his own "Woo hoo!", wrapping his arms around his lover and pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

"We have a house! Our house! Our perfect house!"

Starsky smiled. Even if he hated the house, just seeing this joy on Hutch's face, how happy this made his partner, would have made him love it. But he did love the house, almost as much as he loved this man.

"It's startin', babe." Starsky said as he moved out of the hug, holding Hutch at arm's length. "This is the beginning of our perfect life together."

They just stared at each other for a few moments before Hutch became serious. "There's still one thing we have to do, you know."

"Yeah," Starsky agreed, sobering. "I think it's time."

Hutch nodded, kissed his lover then unlocked the door. Starsky followed his partner as Hutch led them back to the squad room. Each man moved to his desk, opened the drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper. They looked at each other for a moment then each man signed a form. Starsky picked up both letters, placed them in a folder then looked over at Hutch.

"Now?"

Hutch nodded. "It's as good a time as any."

With that, both men made their way over to Captain Dobey's office door. Starsky knocked then stuck his head inside the office. "Got a second, Cap?"

Dobey waved them in as he continued his phone conversation. "Well, I don't care what you have to do. I want that final report on my desk by the end of day! Is that understood? Good!"

He hung up the phone then looked at the two men, standing nervously in front of his desk. Not slumped in the chairs, not playing with the items on his desk. Just standing there, nervously. Something was up and, unfortunately, Dobey thought he knew what it was.

“Yes?”  
“Well, Captain,” Starsky began, not meeting his Captain’s eyes. “We wanted…I mean…Hutch and I…well…”

“What my partner is trying to say, Captain” Hutch picked up. “We both wanted…we came here to say…”

Dobey took the folder from Starsky’s outstretched hand. “So, you’ve reached a decision, right? You’re both resigning?”

Both men looked up at their Captain, surprised. “How…How did you know?” Starsky asked.

“They didn’t make me Captain of Detectives because I looked good in the suit!” He looked at both men. “I’ve suspected, maybe as far back as before the whole McClennan case. Then came the shooting. I was sure that would be the end of it for both of you. But you surprised me, Starsky…surprised all of us. You fought so hard to get back on the job, I thought maybe I was wrong. But now, I think that had more to do with proving something than anything else.”

Starsky began playing with the pens and pencils in the cup on Dobey’s desk, still not meeting his Captain’s eyes. “You’re right, Captain. I did fight hard to get back. I thought that’s what I wanted. But I did have something to prove, to Gunther and everybody else that was watchin’. But after I got back, I realized that it just wasn’t what I wanted anymore.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of his partner. “I was just waitin’ for Blondie here to catch up.”

“Sit down, both of you.” He waited until both men got comfortable in their chair. “So, what are you two going to do?”

“Well,” Hutch began slowly. “We really aren’t sure, yet. We have a few ideas but…”

“We did make one decision, though.” Starsky smiled then looked at his partner, raising his eyebrows in a silent 'Go on, tell him' request.

Hutch smiled as he looked back at his Captain, his friend. “Yeah. Starsky and I bought a house. A house right on the beach. You know, combining finances.”

Dobey smiled at both men. “Is that how you’re going to play it? Expenses?”

Both men looked at each other then turned to Dobey. He look in his eyes and the slight smile on his face told them what they needed to know.

Stunned, Starsky finally spoke. “You know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“But…but…how?” Hutch stammered

A slow smile crossed Starsky’s face “De..tec…tive.”

Hutch chuckled as he shook his head. How could he have thought that no one, especially their Captain, would have noticed a change in their relationship. “But you didn’t say anything.”

“What my men do in their personal lives is none of my business. Unless they make it my business.” Dobey said briskly. “You two never did.”

Hutch glanced over at his partner then back at his Captain. “You’ve always been a good friend, Captain.”

“Yes, well…” Dobey grumbled as he pulled the folder closer and opened it. “Let’s see what we have here.” He read over the document. “You’ve set it for the first of next month, I see.”

“Well, Cap, “ Starsky smiled. “We wanted to give you enough time to plan. And that’ll give us time to wrap up our closed cases and transfer our opened ones.”

“As for those case files you’ve been copying, Hutchinson,” Dobey pointed a finger at Hutch. “That stops right now.”

“Yes, sir.” Hutch mumbled, wondering again why he thought his captain wouldn’t find out.

“But Cap,” Starsky jumped in, ready to defend his partner.

“Don’t ‘but captain’ me, Starsky. Copying those files is against policy. If either of you got caught, it would be your pensions on the line, especially once I turn in these resignation papers.” He glared at both men, waiting and getting nods in agreement. “Good.” He made a note in the file. “I’ll have Minnie copy the remaining files for you. Just let me know what ones you still need.”

‘I...we…don’t know how to thank you, Captain.”

“An invitation to this new beach house would be nice.”

Hutch laughed. “You’re invited to our first barbeque on the beach.”

“And to every barbeque after that!” Starsky added.

“Get out of here, both of you.”

~*~*~*~*~

The next month was non-stop, almost frantic activity. On the work-front, they were completing final reports and closing cases. They were working with Babcock and Simmons, Menendez and Foster, transferring their active cases to the other teams. Minnie, bless her heart, was diligently copying all of their remaining case files like a woman on a mission. And mixed into all of this chaos were the congratulations and well wishes from their friends.

On the home-front there was the packing up of not one but two apartments. Both men spent days going through items they didn’t even remember they had and hours reminiscing over the discoveries. Then there was the paperwork. Their retirement papers had been filed without incident. They met with Vincent Manning, the son representing the family, and finalized the settlement of the house. They were surprised that Vincent recognized them. It turned out that he had followed the Gunther story all the way through to the conviction and was proud to be selling his parent’s home to the two detectives involved.

Vincent talked to them about taking all of the furnishings out of the house, offering them any pieces they might want. When he mentioned that he didn’t really know what to do with all of his parent's clothing and furniture, Starsky suggested that he donate it. Vincent liked the idea and the Eastside Home for the Aged was thrilled with the donation.

Now, finally, moving day had arrived. On this bright, sunny day in late summer, the boys and their friends had formed two teams: Hutch, Babcock and Simmons cleared out Hutch’s apartment while Starsky, Menendez and Foster cleared out his. With Huggy and Dobey supervising at the house, the actual moving and setup went smoothly.

Hutch stood in the middle of the living area, watching as the last piece of furniture was placed. “That’s it, everyone. That’s the last piece. We are finished!” A round of applause followed that announcement.

“Burgers and beer are available out here!” Huggy shouted from the patio. He was manning the brand new grill, a house-warming gift from their friends.

Hutch had appreciated the gift but it was the joy that it brought to his partner, the excited, little-boy enthusiasm that Starsky had displayed that made him smile. “Look at this! This is great!” Starsky had raved upon opening the gift. “Look, Hutch. We can grill, we can even smoke meat on this thing. I can’t wait to set it up!”

How could he not love something that made his partner that happy?

“Time to relax, guys. You've all earned it." Hutch ushered his friends out onto the patio then turned around, looking for this partner.

Starsky came out of the hallway, his face like a thundercloud, mumbling. "Wrong! Wrong! It's all wrong!" Hutch could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Starsky stopped a moment then began pacing in front of his partner.

"They got it all wrong! They set up your old bedroom furniture in the second room! That's supposed to be your office! And your desk is out here, all out in the open. What did they think…"

Hutch put his hands on his partner's arms, stopping his pacing and turning him so that he could meet his eyes. "I told them to set it up that way, Starsk." He said quietly.

Starsk stopped and stared at his partner and Hutch could see his fiery anger turn cold. "Why would you do that?"

"We need a second bedroom."

"No, Hutch. No, we don't. I will not continue to hide our relationship. I will not live a lie in my own home!"

"Hey, calm down," Hutch spoke gently, trying to calm his lover. "That's not what I meant."

"Then why?"

Hutch ran his hands up and down his lover's arms. "I know that back room was supposed to be my office, and it would have made a good one. But, with my desk out here, I'll be able to see the outside and spend time with you instead of being locked away while I'm trying to write."

"But the bedroom?"

"What happens when your mother comes to visit? Or my sister? Or, heaven forbid, your brother? We need a guest bedroom." Hutch flashed a gently smile at his partner. "I'm not asking you to live a lie and I'm not trying to hide our relationship."

Realizing that Starsky still wasn't quite convinced, Hutch smiled. "Trust me." He said as his placed his hands on both sides of his lover's face and gently pulled him into a searing kiss. The body in his hands lost all its tension and practically melted into his arms.

It was the applause and wolf whistles from the patio that finally forced the men apart. Both men sheepishly turned to face their audience.

"Well, uh…" Hutch began to explain but was quickly surrounded by their friends.

"It's about time!" Babcock laughed as Simmons and Menendez headed down the hallway to the bedrooms.

"You guys are ok with this?" Starsky asked, a bit surprised by the apparent acceptance.

"Why wouldn't we be ok with it?" Asked Foster, patting Starsky on the back

"Yeah." Babcock added. "We figured you guys have been doin' it for years."

Huggy chose that moment to stick his head back inside the house. "Well, if you two have finished with the floor show, I've got burgers turning into briquets out here."

Hutch began to herd everyone back out onto the patio when he caught Dobey's eye. Seeing the smile and nod, Hutch knew everything was finally right with their world.

Just then Simmons and Menendez came back into the living room. He looked questioningly at Simmons, who patted him on the back. "We realized that highboy of yours was in the wrong bedroom. We moved it to where it belongs."

With a nob and a smile, Hutch and his partner followed their friends outside.

~*~*~*~*~

The next few months were spent settling into their new house and their new lives. The both decided to take some classes at the local Community College; Starsky taking “Photography as a Business” and Hutch tackling both “Creative Writing” and “Writing for Publication”. He had taken Creative writing courses back in his college days but wanted a refresher and both felt the other courses would help them achieve their goals.

Starsky garnered an additional benefit when he befriended his instructor, who offered him the use of his darkroom until Starsky had his completed.

Hutch’s instructor, who was a published author, felt his writing was good enough that he gave Hutch a contact at his publisher, telling him that when he finished his novel, send it in and he would forward a recommendation.

The holidays saw Hutch gift his partner with the basic equipment to begin setting up his own darkroom. Starsky was thrilled. He also had a sneaking suspicion that his birthday would see the rest of the darkroom being completed. He, in turn, gifted Hutch with the latest in electric typewriters, with all the bells and whistles.

Starsky spent his time taking pictures at the beach, at the park and anywhere that looked interesting. Through some friends on the force, he also began picking up small jobs: birthday parties, family parties, even a wedding. Whenever he had a job, Hutch went along with him as his assistant. He enjoyed watching Starsky interact with the people, getting the best out of them.

Hutch struggled with the task of trying to determine which of their cases he should use for his first novel. He wanted something straight-forward. He didn’t want his first story to contain any police corruption. He feared that would alienate too many people.

He thought about using their first case out of uniform, Gary Prudholm selling drugs at the high school. But Gary Prudholm led to George Prudholm which led to his continued revenge on Starsky and Terry’s death. He couldn’t do a story that would bring back so much pain for his partner.

Subsequently, he wouldn’t write about the Grossman case, about Gillian, for the same reason. And Hutch didn’t think he would ever be able to share the details of the Ben Forest case.

Some things were just too personal.

So, with Starsky’s help, he decided to write about the Danner case. No crooked politicians, no bad cops, no personal connection. Just straight forward police work, catching a drug kingpin, Starsky and Hutch style.

Now their days had fallen into a comfortable pattern. Hutch would start out his day with a run along the beach then, unless they had appointments or things that had to be done, they would spent a few hours at their chosen craft. The afternoons and evenings were for them, together and usually alone. The perfect end to a day.

Hutch had risen early this morning and, donning a tee shirt and sweatpants, stood in the kitchen making coffee. The aroma of the fresh brew usually was enough to rouse his partner but, if it didn’t, Hutch would take a cup into the bedroom and wave it under his nose.

Hutch grinned as he realized that wouldn’t be necessary as he heard the sound of bare feet padding down the hall. A mumbled “coffee”, a kiss on the back of his neck and an arm snaking over his shoulder, taking the prepared cup from his hand. He turned to see his rumpled lover taking a seat at the table.

Grabbing his own cup, he made his way to the table, stopping long enough to run his fingers through his partner’s curls, place a kiss on the top of his head and whisper a “Good Morning” before sitting down. He watched as Starsky took another sip, one eye then the other slowly opening and a smile touching his face.

“Good Morning.”

Hutch smiled. He was amazed by the difference is his partner’s sleep since they left the department. While they were on the force, Starsky could go from sound asleep to totally awake in a fraction of a second. Now, he slept more sound and the path to his waking was a slow one. This only proved to Hutch how much more relaxed and happy his partner was.

“Sleep well?” he asked quietly.

“”Uh huh. You’re up early, though. Anythin’ wrong?”

“”Nope.” Hutch shook his head. “Just slept out.” He took another sip from his cup. “So, any plans for today?”

Part of the pattern of their new lives was that Starsky usually planned their days. He liked taking control of their time and running the house and letting Hutch concentrate on his writing, without any other stresses. Hutch, who would normally need to have that control, found that he enjoyed the freedom that letting Starsky take control offered him.

“We have to go food shopping in the next day or two. If not, it’s pizza and take-out and dirty clothes.”

“OK. We do that, maybe tomorrow? Anything else.”

Starsky thought for a moment. “Nope. We’re free until Thursday evening, when I have that 7th Precinct banquet to photograph.” Hutch nodded, remembering that engagement. “I’m gonna try developing those pictures I took yesterday. I think I got some good ones there.”

“Good.” Hutch finished his coffee and stood up. “I’m gonna go for a run then I’ll come back and shower.”

Starsky, now more awake, smiled and stood. “Go. Run. I’ll shower while you’re gone then, while you shower, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hutch came around the table to give his lover a proper good morning kiss but, as their lips met, Starsky deepened the kiss into something much more. Gasping for breath as they broke the kiss, Hutch smiled.

“Now how am I supposed to run like this?”

Starsky looked down to see the obviously tented sweatpants and smiled. “You’ll think of something.” he said with a chuckle. “Listen. If you still have a problem when you get back, I’ll see what I can do to help you with it.”

“Oh, thanks, partner.” Hutch laughed as he smacked Starsky on the ass and jogged out the door.

Starsky went to place his cup in the sink when he noticed the mess spread across the counter. Coffee grounds, water and general mess announced that Hutch was here. Starsky turned to take a quick look around their open living area. Jackets thrown on chairs, some even on the floor, magazines on every tabletop, even tee shirts hanging from doorknobs. God, he loved the man but he had to admit, Hutch was a slob.

It only took a few minutes to stack the magazines, hang up the jackets and gather the other miscellaneous articles of clothing to throw in the laundry. He was surprised to find that the jacket on the floor by Hutch’s desk was his old leather one, bullet holes repaired but still visible. He wondered how it got out here. He hadn’t worn it in ages. Shaking his head, he picked it up and carried it into the bedroom to hang back in his closet, while the rest of the clothes went into the hamper.

A quick shower had him dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and in the kitchen as Hutch came back through the patio door.  
Hearing his entry Starsky turned to face him, a spatula held in his hand like a weapon.

“Keep your stinking, sweaty body away from me!”

Hutch laughed as his plan to wrap himself around his newly showered lover was thwarted.

“Go shower.” Starsky said as he turned back to his preparations. “You got ten, maybe fifteen minutes ‘til this is ready.”

Hutch turned towards the bedroom, still chuckling to himself.

Twenty minutes later found them sitting at the table, finishing a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh cantaloupe, toast and orange juice.

“I’m gonna do a load of laundry before I get started.” Starsky placed his dirty dishes in the sink. “Just put the dishes here, I’ll clean ‘em up later.”

“OK,” Hutch stood and gather up his dishes, placing them in the sink then putting the butter and juice back into the fridge. “I’m going to start on that new chapter we talked about.”

Starsky went into the master bathroom, grabbed all of the clothes from the hamper and was in the laundry room when he noticed his partner’s frantic mutterings.

“no, no, no, where is it. It has to be here.”

Walking into the living area to see what the problem was, he found his partner tearing through the closet, pulling everything off the hangers.

“Hey, Hutch! What are you doing?”

“I can’t find it!” Hutch shouted as he left the closet and began looking under and around all the furniture. “I need it! It has to be here somewhere!!!”

Becoming a concerned by his lover’s clear agitation, Starsky tried to grab hold of Hutch but was shaken off.

“Where is it!!! It has to be here!!!”

Starsky finally grabbed Hutch by the arms, holding him at arm’s length. “HUTCH!” he yelled to get his lover’s attention.

Hutch stopped his frantic movements at the shout. “What is wrong?” Starsky asked quietly, trying to calm his lover. “What are you looking for?”

“The jacket! It was here! It’s supposed to be here! I need it!”

“Jacket? What jacket?”

“YOUR JACKET!” Hutch shouted, trying to make his partner understand.

Momentarily searching his partner’s wild eyes, Starsky finally realized what Hutch was talking about. “I’ve got it, babe. I’ve got it. Wait right here. OK?”

Getting a nod from his partner, Starsky ran into the bedroom, pulled the bullet-ridden jacket off the hanger and returned to the living room, pushing it into Hutch’s arms.

“Here it is, babe. It’s right here.”

Pulling the jacket to his chest, Hutch sat down on the sofa as if his legs could no longer hold him. He sat quietly for a few minutes, rocking gently, the jacket crushed to his chest. Starsky eased down next to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. You OK now?”

The quiet, uncertain tenor of his voice reached Hutch, bringing to him the realization that his ranting had frightened his partner.

“I’m sorry, Starsk.” He apologized, embarrassed by his outburst. “I just…”

“Hey. It’s OK” Starsky ran his hand up and down Hutch’s arm, soothing him. “Can you tell me, babe? Can you tell me what’s so important about that jacket?”

Hutch looked up, meeting his lover’s eyes. “This jacket represents everything…everyone we fought against and every battle we won. Don’t you see, Starsk?” He looked down at the jacket, smoothing it out on his lap, then back at his partner. “They tried to kill you, but you fought back. They tried to tear us apart, but we fought back. This jacket , it…it represents all the times they tried to take us down and we fought back! We won!”

“Yeah, we did, didn’t we, babe.” Starsky smiled at his partner. “I didn’t realize it meant that much to you.”

“I…I keep it with me, when I’m writing. I find it easier to write when I have it.” Hutch looked at his partner, hoping to see understanding in his eyes.

“I understand. I didn’t before but I understand now.” Starsky smiled at his partner, receiving a smile in return. “And I’m sorry. When I was pickin’ up everything out here, I found that on the floor by your desk. I couldn’t figure out how it got there, so I just hung it back up in my closet. But.” He tilted his head to catch Hutch’s eyes. “I promise you, from now on, I will make sure that jacket is by your desk. OK?”

Hutch nodded. “OK,’ the embarrassed smile still on his face. “Sorry I went a bit off the rails there.”

“That’s OK,” Starsky assured him. “I’m used to it. I’ve got this weird partner.” The comment made Hutch laugh, just as it was intended to do. “

“I’m gonna go finish the laundry. You alright now?”

“Yeah.” Hutch nodded. “I’m going to start that chapter now.”

Hutch stood and walked over to his desk, hung the jacket on the back of the chair and sat down. Getting settled, he looked over at Starsky and smiled.

Starsky returned the smile and got up and went back to the laundry room, shaking his head. Another crisis averted for his slightly whacked out partner.

~*~*~*~*~

The night’s total darkness was broken by the shaft of moonlight drifting in through the open patio door. The sound of the surf acted as soothing white noise, deepening the sleep of the inhabitants of the beach homes.

Hutch was wide awake. He lay in bed, his lover’s sleeping body snuggled up against his side, curly head resting on his chest. He glanced over at the clock on Starsky’s side of the bed. It was 2:17 AM. Hutch sighed.

“I can hear you thinking.” Starsky mumbled. “What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a nightmare. Nothing’s wrong.” His fingers gently rubbed the scalp beneath the dark brown curls. “Go back to sleep.”

He felt his partner sigh. “You might as well tell me or neither one of us is gettin’ back to sleep.”

Now it was his turn to sigh. His partner was right. He would wind up telling Starsky eventually so he might as well do it now.

“I’ve been having this recurring dream.”

“’bout what?”

“That part of it...it isn’t about anything. It’s not scary, I’m not frightened, it’s just…strange.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s dark but, like I said, not frightening. It’s like my eyes are closed. And I can hear voices having conversations but I can’t make out any of the words. They’re pleasant conversations, no yelling or anything. Just the sounds of people talking. Then, sometimes, I can hear Dobey.”

“Captain Dobey?”

“Yeah. He’s talking but, again, I can’t make out any of the words. Except, every once in a while, I can hear him say my name.”

“So what’s botherin’ you about it?”

“Why don’t I open my eyes? At no point in the dream do I ever think about trying to understand what they’re saying or think about seeing who they are. It’s like I’m content to just let them talk. It’s…it’s strange.”

“Ya wanna know what I think?” Starsky leaned up to look into his partner’s face. “I think you’re working on your book day and night. I think you got all those characters in your head and your brain is workin’ out what they're doin’ and sayin’.”

“And Dobey?” Hutch smiled.

“You’ve been going over the case files again and again. It’s no wonder you’re hearing Dobey in your sleep.” Starsky stretched up and gently kissed his lover’s lips. “I think that the voices will go away once you finish the book.” Starsky reclaimed his place as he snuggled down against his lover’s body. “So stop worryin’ and go back to sleep.”

Hutch chuckled. His partner was right. The dreams would probably stop once the book was finished. With that thought, he tightened his arms around his lover and went back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

The next few months went on as before, with Starsky working to perfect his craft, getting a few more job, taking pictures and even selling a few. Hutch continued to write.

Some days the flow of words seemed unstoppable, other days it was a struggle to get the sentences down on paper. But Hutch persevered and, finally, the day arrived.

Hutch finished his book.

~*~*~*~*~

He paced along the patio, his hands stuck in his back pockets. Back and forth, over and over, he paced. Occasionally, he would stop at the open slider into the house and look in, to see his partner curled up in the corner of the sofa, reading. After a moment's hesitation, he would continue to pace.

Starsky was reading his book.

'What if he thinks it's stupid. What if he thinks it's amateurish. What if he just doesn't like it?'

The thoughts ran continuously through Hutch's head as he headed back to the open slider, only to be pulled up short by the presence of the man in question.

Starsky stood in the doorway, watching his lover's nervous pacing. When Hutch stopped in front of him, Starsky pulled him into his arms, wrapping his partner in a loving embrace.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, Starsky whispered into Hutch's ear. "It's absolutely fantastic. I love it." Stepping back to look into his partner's face, he said it again. "I love it."

"You…you love it?" Hutch stammered. "It…it's good."

"Good doesn’t even begin to cover it." Starsky smiled as he took Hutch by the hand, leading him into the house and over to the sofa. Guiding him to sit, Starsky sat down, facing him, taking both Hutch's hands in his.

"It's a great story, babe." Hutch smiled as his partner continued. "The story flows smoothly, you've got the tension building slowly throughout the entire piece. I mean, hell, I worked the case with you. I knew how it turned out. But I couldn't stop reading. I just wanted to see how it ended!"

Hutch's smile split his face and Starsky could see the tension leave his body, could see the relief in his eyes.

"I thought you were gonna hate it. But you really like it? You wouldn't just say that, would you?"

Starsky shook his head. "I wouldn't do that to you, babe. I wouldn't be helping you if I just told you what I thought you wanted to hear, if I wasn't completely honest with you. I honestly loved it."

"And there's nothing you would change?"

"Well," Starsky hesitated.

"What? What would you change?"

"Well, I think…maybe…there's too much of me in the book." At Hutch's startled look, he continued. "Babe, this is supposed to be a story about a cop, solving a case. But you…"

"No! Stop right there." Hutch held up a hand to stop Starsky's words. "This story is not about a cop solving a case. It's about a pair of cops, partners, solving a case. It's not just about a main character. It's about a partnership."

Hutch grabbed Starsky by the chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "It's about us!"

"OK," Starsky smiled. "I get it. But promise me something."

"What?"

"You know that any publisher you get is gonna want to edit some things, right?" Hutch nodded. "Well, if they suggest that you remove some of the 'partner' stuff, you'll seriously consider it."

Hutch looked at his partner, studying his face then agreed. "OK, I'll consider it."

Starsky smiled and nodded before he heard Hutch continue. "I won't do it but I'll consider it."

Shaking his head at his partner's stubbornness, Starsky chuckled. "Ok. So what do we do now?"

"Well, first thing is to make a copy. Then I send the copy off to a publisher."

"You gonna send it the that guy your instructor suggested?"

"Yeah. I figured I'd start there. If he rejects it, I'll just send copies off to as many different publishers I can think of." Hutch thought for a moment. "Maybe I should make multiple copies."

"No, just one copy for now. I have a feeling the first publisher you send it to is gonna want it immediately."

Hutch smiled as he stood, pulling his partner up with him. "I hope you're right." He placed an easy kiss on Starsky's lips. "C'mon. Let's go."

With the finished manuscript in hand, they headed out, first to the copy center then to the post office. Within the hour, a copy of Hutch story was in the mail, on the way to the first perspective publisher.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a few weeks later that Starsky walked into the house, carrying the day's mail.

"Hey, Hutch!" he called out, not quite sure where his partner was.

A blond head popped in through the door from the patio. "What?"

"C'mere. I got somethin' for ya."

Hutch stepped the rest of the way into the house, wiping his hands on a rag. "What do you have?"

"Mail." Starsky, still standing in the living room, held out a large, manila envelope towards Hutch, who slowly came closer, as if afraid to see what his partner held.

"For me?"

"Yeah."

Hutch reached out and took hold of the envelope, still not removing it from his partner's hand. "It's from Hawthorne Publishing."

"Yep." Starsky tried to restrain a smile.

Hutch finally took the envelope, holding it in both hands as if weighing it.

"It's not heavy enough." He looked up at his partner. "If they sent back the manuscript, it would be heavier."

"Uh huh." Starsky agreed.

"But," Hutch hesitated for a second. "It's too heavy to be a simple rejection letter."

"You'd make a great detective, you know that?" Starsky smiled. "Why don't you open it?"

"Oh, yeah. Open it." Hutch blushed a bit as he carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers and began to read.

"enjoyable…intriguing…would be very…" He went silent, one hand slowly moving to cover his mouth as his eyes read over the rest of the letter.

Starsky, almost positive as to the contents, couldn't contain his any longer. "Well, what's it say?"

Hutch looked up at his partner, back down to the letter then back up, a huge smile creasing his face. "They love my story. They love it, Starsk! But listen to this!" His excitement grew as he talked. "Not only did they love the book and want to publish it, they want to contract me to write two additional stories, for a total of three books!" He looked down at the letter then back up to his partner's face. "They want to publish my book!"

Starsky pulled his excited partner into his arms. "Of course they do, dummy! They'd be fools if they didn't." He stepped back, holding Hutch at arm's length. "Didn't I tell you they'd love it? Huh, didn't I?"

He led them both over to the sofa to sit. "OK, so what's all this?" He indicated the papers.

"They sent a contract. Said I should have my attorney look it over and gave me a name to call if there were any questions. But, if everything is agreeable, I can sign it and they publish the book."

"Well, then, we gotta get you an attorney." Starsky thought for a moment. "Hey, why not call Vince. He might know someone in town that handles things like this."

So that's what they did. They contacted their friend, Vincent Manning, who gave them the name of an entertainment attorney that specialized in publishing. Within a few days, they met with the attorney to go over the contract and, after a discussion with the publisher's representative and a few minor changes to the contract, Hutch signed it.

He was going to be a published author.

~*~*~*~*~

The next few months became a whirlwind of activity. Starsky continued to get jobs and take pictures while Hutch was tied up in discussions. Starsky had been right, the publisher wanted a number of rewrites. Hutch discussed each requested change, agreed with most of them but held fast on some others. But, after a stressful and sometimes painful period, the story was a finished product and ready for printing.

Then the fun began.

As a part of the contract, Hutch had agreed to a promotional tour prior to the book's publication. And one of the changes to the contract he had demanded was that his 'personal' photographer be included in all promotional engagements. After seeing a sample of Starsky's work, the publisher had agreed, even using one of Starsky's black and white photographs of Hutch on the back of the book's jacket.

They made the rounds of the talk shows, morning, mid-day and late-night, West Coast and East. Both men profited from the exposure. Anticipation for Hutch's book, The Bait, was growing. The publisher was projecting gross sales of over a million units.

Starsky's work, on the other hand, had come to the attention of a number of publications, with both Time Magazine and Newsweek making him offers of employment. He turned them both down, gracefully, saying that he preferred to remain a free agent. But he made them both aware that he would happily consider any freelance jobs they may want him to tackle.

His work also got the attention of the artistic community. He was offered a private showing in a small gallery in Venice. That showing got the attention of a member of the Los Angeles Art Association, who offered him a private showing in the large venue.

Both men's careers took off.

~*~*~*~*~

With private showings in both L.A. and New York, Starsky became the photographer of the times. Meanwhile, Hutch's name was on everyone's lips.

His first book, The Bait, spent 36 weeks on the New York Times Best Seller's list. His second book, Snowstorm, which covered the Stryker cocaine case, spent 54 weeks on the Best Seller's list and his third book, Targets, which covered the Gunther case from the Judge McClellan investigation through to the conviction of James Gunther, had been on the Best Seller's list for the past two years, debuting at number one and still going strong.

They were both at the top of their chosen careers and their lives were perfect.

~*~*~*~*~

A storm was brewing out over the ocean on this late fall day, bringing a cold wind and rough seas crashing against the shore. Starsky stood in the kitchen, looking out onto the beach, watching his lover.

Hutch stood on the shore, looking out to sea. Starsky could see the sadness in the way he held his body. Something was bothering him. It seemed to hit him yesterday and continued into today. Starsky didn’t want to press him, wanted to give him time to think it through, to work it out on his own. But enough was enough. He intended to get to the bottom of whatever it was and now seemed to be as good a time as any.

Pulling on his cable knit sweater and grabbing one for his partner, Starsky walked down to the shore. Coming up behind his lover, he draped the sweater over Hutch’s shoulders. “You’re gonna freeze to death out here.”

Hutch shook his head, pulling the sweater tighter. “I’m from Minnesota. This isn’t cold. It’s a gentle breeze.”

Starsky just chuckled as he ran his hands up and down Hutch’s arms. “You gonna tell me now? Or do I have to drag it out of you later?”

Hutch sighed, his entire body sagging in anguish. He knew he had to talk to his partner sooner or later. Might as well be now. He turned in his lover’s arms, and looked upon a concerned face.

“I…I think...maybe…” He stammered as he let out another sigh. “I think I might be going crazy.”  
Starsky stared at him for a moment, seeing the despair in his eyes. “The voices?” Hutch nodded. “Have they changed? Are they gettin’ frightening?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand, babe. You’ve been hearin’ them in your sleep for years now. What’s changed?”

Hutch looked away. “I’m starting to hear them during the day, when I’m awake.”

Starsky studied Hutch for a moment, trying to figure out just what to say. “Hey.” He said softly, getting Hutch’s attention.

“Look at us. We have a beautiful house. You’re a world-renown author with not one, not two but three books on the best-sellers list. I’ve become a famous photographer, with gallery showings in L.A. and New York. And, most important, we have each other. Forever.”

He moved to catch Hutch’s eyes then smiled. “I’m happier now than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Our life is perfect. And you wanna know what I think? I think ‘perfect’ scares you. It always has. You worry that somethin’s gonna go wrong, that it’s all gonna end. That’s just who you are and what you do.”

When Hutch looked away again, Starsky continued. “Hey. Nothing is gonna change, babe. If we lost is all tomorrow, the house, the fame, the money, it wouldn’t matter. We’d still be together. Me and Thee, remember? And that’s the only thing that’s important, the only thing that really matters. I’ve loved you in the past, I love you now and I’m gonna love you forever." Starsky smiled at his partner. "Even if you are a little crazy."

Hutch laughed as he wrapped his arms around his lover. “I love you, too. And you’ve always been crazy.” He placed a gently kiss on the side of Starsky’s face, hugging him a bit tighter.

“Just promise me.” Starsky said, stepping back a bit to catch Hutch’s eyes.. “If those voices ever start tellin’ you to do things…you’ll let me know, ok?”

Hutch threw back is head in laughter, his feelings of sadness and worry disappearing in the face of such pure love and joy. He closed his arms around his lover, pulling him closer.

“I promise, you goofball!”  
~*~*~*~*~

A gentle breeze wafted through the sprawling parkland, painting the small lake with delicate ripples. The trees filtered the bright sun, creating an extremely pleasant setting.

Harold Dobey sat quietly on a bench, absorbing the peaceful quiet, watching the various groups of people around him. Some were gathered around tables, some were sitting by the lake. All were supervised by attendants, the only indication that this was a hospital setting.

Suddenly, a gentle voice drew his attention.

“Captain Dobey. Vincent told me you two were out here.”

“Ms. Murphy.” He smiled at the young lady in the nurse’s uniform. “It’s such a beautiful day, I couldn’t waste it being inside.

“Now, Captain. How many times must I tell you to call me Karen?” she chided as she sat down beside him on the bench. He chuckled as she glanced at the patient sitting in the wheelchair under the tree a few feet away.

“You’re not talking to him?”

The smile on his face faded, replaced by a look of sadness. “I was talking to him earlier but, well, sometimes it seems to upset him.” His looked over at the patient, distressed by what he saw.

His body thinning, his pale face turned towards the sun, the patient sat, a slight smile on his face. Eyes closed, having no interaction with the world around him, his only movement was his hands, gently fondling the leather jacket clasped tightly to his chest.

Looking at the patient, she smiled. “He really is a good patient. Very easy to work with, never causing a problem. Except when we have to take away the jacket. That really upsets him." She looked back at Dobey. "We’ve started to sedate him whenever we have to take it away.” She shook her head, smiling. “He really does love that jacket.”

“He loved the man who owned that jacket.”

Karen looked back at Dobey. A vigilant friend, he came by most days to visit. She knew that the trip was out of his way but that didn’t stop him. She was touched by the dedication and sadness in this big man.

“You know, Captain, I never really knew…what happened to him?”

Dobey turned to her, taking in her caring face. With a sigh, he began to explain.

“They were detectives, the best team I’ve ever worked with. They had a connection, almost a sixth sense about each other. One would start a sentence, the other would finish it. Sometimes a conversation with them was like talking to one person with two voices.” Dobey shook his head. “Closer than brothers. Closer than any two people I’ve ever known.”

He was silent for a moment. Karen waited, giving him the time he seemed to need.

“They were working a drug case. Trying to track down a suspect that could lead them to the top guy. They had been trawling the streets when they spotted him. His partner called it in and they gave chase. About ten minutes later he called in, saying the guy had run into a warehouse, they were going in and they needed backup. Exactly what happened after that, we can only surmise.”

“He never told you what happened?”

“He hasn’t spoken a word since we found him." He slowly shook his head. "Five years. Not a word.”

Dobey pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, taking a moment to gather himself.

“When the backup got there, they found him sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth, his partner’s dead body cradled in his arms. I arrived a few minutes later, along with the paramedics. He just sat there, rocking, talking to his partner too softly for anyone to hear. When they tried to remove the body, he fought like an animal. He just wouldn’t let go. They finally had to sedate him so they could transport them both.”

Karen gently placed her hand on the large man’s arm, trying to offer some comfort.

"When he came to in the hospital, he went crazy, fighting like an animal, screaming his partner's name. Then someone thought to give him the jacket. He calmed right down. But he hasn't spoken to anyone since."

They both sat silently for a moment before Dobey sighed.

“The autopsy showed that his partner suffered one bullet wound to the chest, killing him instantly." Dobey took a minute then cleared his throat. "Ballistics later proved that the bullet came from his gun.”

“Oh, my God.” She exclaimed. “He shot his partner.”

“It was ruled an accidental shooting. They loved each other too much for it to be anything else. But it broke him, Karen. It completely and utterly broke him.”

They both looked over at the man, still sitting quietly in the sun, a gentle smile on his face.

“But look at him, Captain.” Karen said softly. “Wherever he is in his mind, he seems to be happy.”

“Yeah, he does. And I'm sure, wherever Hutch is in his mind, Starsky is right there with him.” Dobey sighed. “They’re together. Forever.”

~*~*~*~*~

And in the deepest parts within his mind, Hutch stood on the wind-blown beach, his arms wrapped around Starsky, his lover, his heart, his only reason for living. Gently, as if carried on the wind, he heard his former captain’s voice.

“Together. Forever.”

And Hutch smiled.


End file.
